I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
by the-undefined
Summary: In that moment, the boy turned to look at her and their eyes met. They shared an understanding, if only for a moment. Neither of them was free. Nejiten


I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings 

**Summary:** In that moment, the boy turned to look at her and their eyes met. They shared an understanding, if only for a moment. Neither of them was free. [Nejiten

I really think it's a K rated fic but I'm always cautious so it's K . Oh the dangers of an added plus sign.

**Disclaimer:** You'd think the fact that I wrote the word 'disclaimer' would mean something. Don't own Naruto or the title from the poem by Maya Angelou (fabulous poem by the way. Most of her stuff is.) But I only used the title. The poem itself is a little more angsty than I wanted… so I wrote a new one. That obviously wasn't as good (especially cause my poetry is rusty), but also fit a little better.

**Author's Note:** Errrrr…. Drabble with a plot? What now?! Whoopsie. My bad… I only wanted to do a piece with little Tenten and little Neji. It just kind of… evolved? Oops. It also has multiple mistakes because I was too lazy to really edit. But I wanted to upload it so… I did. I swear I'll fix it one of these days…

…o0o…

Tenten's parents died when she was four. Two weeks later when social security came around, they found a small girl; buns on her little, brown head, tear stains down her little, pale cheeks, and a somber look on her little, round face, as if she had resolved not to cry anymore. (She still looked like she was going to.) She was clutching a worn, yellow blanket as if her life depended on it. Their hearts cried for this poor, little girl, but they could do nothing. They dragged her silent form all the way down to the orphanage; their hearts breaking with every silent plea her eyes gave them. They would wonder how many more times their hearts would have to break in this line of work. They would conclude it was better not to think of such things.

_**I know why the caged bird sings…**_

Tenten learned quickly the ways of the orphanage. If you didn't protect and fight for your food, you didn't get any. If you showed an even mildly bad disposition when patrons or families came around, you'd get beaten (mostly by other children who thought their chances of being adopted were better if everyone at the orphanage was happy). If you showed any weakness, there would be hell to pay. In a way, it readied her for the outside world. It was a world that she yearned for, but could not be a part of because of her parents' deaths.

Beyond those prison gates, she remembered a life of bright happiness and bubbly laughter. Beyond those gates she saw the wings of freedom. But she also knew it was a world where only the normal children with happy families could reside. Those who had broken (or in her case, nonexistent) families were subject to lead their lives on the inside. A now five-year-old Tenten understood this. That notion would soon be changed.

The matron of the orphanage shook her head wonderingly at the strange and quiet little girl who said nothing to anyone and stood all day by the gates with her little yellow blanket. What she was searching for, nobody knew.

_**It sings for a lonely lover and a hapless friend**_

During one of these particular instances, a boy with white eyes wandered by. An older man was dragging him. The man dropped his hand despairingly to lecture him, preaching about upholding family honor. In that moment, the boy turned to look at her and their eyes met. They shared an understanding, if only for a moment. Neither of them was free.

It was to be the first of many of his visits.

Whenever he ambled by (never without some man or another looming over him), he always turned to look at the orphanage. And always, without fail, he saw her. Her and her little yellow blanket. They never spoke out loud to one another, never needed to. They understood each other implicitly and that was enough.

One of these particular instances, it was his uncle dragging them. The two of them were dressed in black. They were heading back home for his father's funeral. His uncle stopped for a second to talk to another man who was offering condolences. Neji couldn't bring himself to look at her; he only looked at the ground and tried not to cry.

_**It sings for release of body and a happy end**_

A hand reached out to him. Something soft was pushed towards his cheek. He looked up. There again was the little girl, offering her little yellow blanket. _Take it_, she seemed to say. _You need it more than me_.

He accepted out of need for comfort and respect for her. He understood at that time that she was giving him her only possession in the world. He let a few tears fall into it before shuffling away. He didn't say thank you. He didn't need to.

She didn't see him after that.

When she turned 18, she was let out of the orphanage. She walked downtown, marveling at how much fresher the air smelled outside. She smiled for the first time in years.

_**I know why the caged bird sings**_

She worked hard wherever she was. Her less-than-perfect education hindered her progress, but if she let it get to her, her co-workers never knew. She was a marvel to the working place. She got her own apartment soon, and though it was shabby, it was hers. She was content.

She was promoted. She felt proud, accomplished. The only thing she missed was having someone to share it with.

She moved jobs to a bigger firm downtown. She wasn't exceptionally high ranking, but for someone of her background it was an impressive status. Her boss was a nice man, if a bit enthusiastic and she was comfortable. He praised her saying he had not had such a hard worker since his protégé who was currently on a year long business trip in Japan. He complimented her and helped her grow. She had forgotten what it was like to have a father figure.

Her boss called in sick one day and she was told to take his place. She was a little nervous, but put on a bright smile anyway. She walked in confident and self-possessed.

She was taken aback to see the boy with the white eyes again. White-eyes were certainly not unfamiliar in this company and he was no longer the boy she had known, but it was still him.

He looked up at her, also taken aback. He allowed himself the first smile he'd given since his father's death.

Small talk was made. Business was conducted. Nothing out of the ordinary for business associates. But their eyes held the real conversation. Between them, they discussed their whole lives, past and present. She told him how she'd become a happy person able to contribute to society. He told her about his business dealings after inheriting his family line of work.

When she left his office, she felt a little sad. After all these years, she was free and he was still a captive behind a desk.

_**It sings for freedom on a distant sea**_

They saw each other occasionally after that. He asked her casually out for a cup of coffee. She accepted.

They saw each other more after that. It was never for long and never much more than casual. Not _much_. They were comfortable the way they were, even happy. It was a good time.

He told her one day that he was being moved to a different branch of his family's business an hour away. She knew before he told him. It was in his eyes.

She didn't cry when he left. She moved on. At least that's what she told herself.

Years went by. She never saw him. She retired and lived alone. When she was too old to do that, she moved to a nursing home. There she saw him again.

When he saw her, he laughed in deep, rumbling tones. He was older now, as was she, but he was still the same man. He was still the same boy that stopped by her orphanage to look and to empathize. But there was one major difference. For the first time for since she'd known him, his eyes told her he was finally free.

He told her he'd waited for her to come for a long time and why hadn't she come sooner? She was still too struck to answer. What were the odds of casually meeting a person three times in a lifetime? She decided it was fate.

_**It sings for the freedom it finds in thee**_

He pulled out something from behind his back saying he'd kept it with him always. There, a little more worn and a little less yellow, was her little, old blanket.

He asked her to marry him. She accepted.

Because they were both free to do exactly as they pleased.

* * *

_**I know why the caged bird sings…**_

_**It sings for a lonely lover and a hapless friend**_

_**It sings for release of body and a happy end**_

_**I know why the caged bird sings**_

_**It sings for freedom on a distant sea**_

_**It sings for the freedom it finds in thee**_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ehehe… hope it wasn't too horrible and not a complete waste of time. 

If it was... oops sorry.


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